


The Magnificent Seven

by tosaveonehuman



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aerial silks, Alternate Universe - Circus, Human Castiel, Human Trafficking, M/M, Trapeze, aerial dancing, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:24:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3237914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosaveonehuman/pseuds/tosaveonehuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Magnificent Seven isn't just your average circus. Alistair, the show runner, offers services... at a price. Dean is his best aerial dancer, however, the stakes are high for Dean. When he gets a new partner, they get a little higher</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Winchester!” The man, Alistair, barked. “Get over here.”  
Dean supressed a sigh and stood up from his dressing table. He rolled his shoulders to release some of the tension as he went to meet the handler.  
“Yes sir,” Dean said when he reached Alistair.  
“This is Castiel Novak, he just joined us today. He’ll be replacing Benny.”  
“Well where’s Benny going?”  
“We moved him to work the Purgatory circuit. He needed the training. ” With that, Alistair walked away.  
Dean rolled his eyes then looked at the new guy. “So, you’re replacing my partner, huh?” He gave the guy and appraising look. “You ever worked the silks before?” Castiel shook his head. “How ‘bout the trapeze?” Another shake. “Awesome.” Dean spun and shouted across the tent to Alistair. “Al, what the hell?” He stomped towards Alistair, Castiel following close behind. “He doesn’t know anything about the silks or the trapeze!” Dean shouted as he reached the handler.  
“So teach him, Dean-o, but he’s your partner now.”  
“I want Benny back.” Dean said, voice tight.  
“You can’t have Benny back, he’s already been sent to Miami to work the Purgatory circuit, and I told you that. Castiel was just brought into the family. I placed him with the best aerial artist I have because I know you can make him great.” Alistair reached out and held Dean’s cheeks in his hands. “Do not make me put you on the rack.”  
Dean cringed. The rack was the last place you wanted to be in Alistair’s company. “I’ll teach him,” Dean said through his teeth.  
“Good!” Alistair said, exiting the training building.  
Dean took a deep, steadying breath, and then turned to the new guy. “Follow me.” He started off towards his training centre, where a jungle of silk ribbons hung from the ceiling. “Is there anything I can use to get us started?” Dean said, trying to control his irritation. He and Benny had always known that Alistair sent his weaker performers to Purgatory to undergo a strict training program, but they’d hoped neither of them would be sent.  
At least, they hoped Benny wouldn’t be sent. From day one it was clear Dean was a natural, but Benny… He’d never been able to do much on the silks, and was a mediocre trapeze artist. It left Dean doing a lot of solo acts, and Benny got a free ride.  
The problem was, Alistair didn’t give free rides.  
It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. Dean and Benny trained day in and day out, he’d just never gotten the hang of it.  
No one ever knew when they were getting sent to Purgatory. One day they’d just get to their bunk and their stuff was gone and they were put on a plane.  
“I, uh, I used to dance, when I was a teenager. Contemporary, mostly, but some ballet.”  
“We can work with that.” Dean said. “Okay, this here is my domain. I’m Alistair’s best aerial dancer, and that has made me the only dancer. As I’m sure you’re aware, he only keeps around a handful of his most elite performers, and he sends you to Purgatory if you’re not meeting his expectations. You have six weeks to do so before he sends you away. If you do well in Purgatory, you get to come back.”  
“And if you don’t do well there?” Cas asked tentatively.  
“You better just pray you do well."

 

The next morning, Dean rose early, when the sky was still pale, pulled on his dark training leotard, and when to the training centre. He plugged in his iPod and selected a song and began warming up. After ten minutes, he grabbed onto one of the silks and hoisted himself into the air. With practised ease he twisted himself into the ribbon, climbing higher and higher until he was fifteen feet in the air.  
Then, with a twist, he rolled out.  
Before he ran out of rope, he began twisting and tumbling. The soft fabric cascaded around him as he wrapped himself in it, forcing his body into what normal humans would consider dangerous positions but to Dean was the ultimate form of freedom.  
His muscles burned with the effort it took to keep himself suspended, but he didn’t care. Performing was the only joy he’d had in the last four months, and he took every chance he got to practice.  
After about half an hour of being on the silks, he untangled himself and put his feet back on solid ground. He gripped the ribbon tightly for a moment and rested his head against it before he turned away and met impossibly blue cerulean eyes.  
“That was incredible, Dean.” Castiel said.  
“Thank you,” Dean replied as he reached for his towel. He was drenched in sweat, and his breathing was heavy. “Are you ready to start?”  
Castiel nodded tentatively. “I think so.”  
“Good, there are spare leotards in that chest over there,” Dean said, pointing. “Get changed and be back here in five.”  
As Castiel scampered off, Dean began stretching. As he did this, he sent out a silent prayer. 'I’m trying, Sammy. I’ll get home to you soon.' 

 

Castiel grunted as the ribbon pulled taunt around his rib cage. He stayed suspended, though, which had been his intent, and waited for Dean’s next instruction.  
“Good. Now hook the silk behind your knee and twist out.” Castiel did as he was told, and Dean smiled to himself- the guy was good. There was potential here. If they kept up their training, they could perform together in next week’s show. “Awesome, now you can slide down.” When Castiel was on the ground, he walked over to his partner and instructor.  
“How did I do?”  
“Amazing- you’re a natural, buddy. I think we could perform as early as next week.” He smiled and clapped Castiel on the shoulder.  
“That’s what I like to hear!” The good humour faded from Dean’s face at the sound of his handler’s voice. “I told you you could do it, Dean-o.”  
Dean cringed as Alistair wrapped one scrawny arm around him. “Yes, you did. We’re taking a lunch break.”  
“Wait, I want to see him on the ropes before you go.”  
“He’s not ready to perform yet, sir, he’s only just learned the basic moves. Come back in a few days and maybe we’ll have something to show you.”  
Dean shrugged Alistair’s arm off his shoulder and motioned for Castiel to follow him.  
“I’ll have lunch sent in,” Alistair said as he left.  
The performers sat down on the ground, backs resting against one of the supply trunks.  
“Alistair doesn’t seem like the kind of man who lets people talk to him like that.” Castiel observed.  
“No, he doesn’t. I’m the only one who gets away with it because he needs me.”  
“I see,” Castiel said brow pulled together in thought. One of the stage hands brought two plates in and handed them to the performers without a word.  
“Listen, Cas- I-“  
“What did you call me?” Cas said, face stricken.  
“Uh- Cas- is that- is that okay?”  
Cas stared at him for several long moments before he nodded slowly. “No one has called me that in a very long time.”  
“There’s a lot of things we haven’t had in a long time.” Dean said, a faraway look in his eyes.  
“You made a Deal?” Cas asked, surprised.  
“We all made Deals, Cas.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Sit still,” Dean muttered a week and hundreds of miles later. He held Cas’ chin with one hand as the other painted a thick black line across his eyelid.  
“Sorry,” Cas whispered, making a concerted effort to hold still. Dean continued painting an intricate pattern around his eyes. The intense black and glittering whites made Cas’ eyes stand pop, the dim light getting caught and thrown around in the azure depths. The purple and red spotlights swung around on the other side of the curtain, casting their faces into shadow.  
“You ready?” Dean asked, green eyes glimmering. Cas took a deep breath and nodded. His face was taunt, stress painted in his features. “Cas, you don’t have to do this,” Dean whispered.  
“Yes I do,” Cas said, jaw tightening.  
“No, you don’t. I can protect you. You’ve only been doing this for a week. Your first performance can be next week-“  
“Dean, I will not get sent to Purgatory. You said you thought I was ready- do you still believe that?”  
“Yes,” Dean said without hesitating.  
“And now presenting our final act of the evening, Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, performing as the Hunter and the Angel on the silks,” Alistair’s voice boomed over the speaker system.  
“Then let’s do this,” Cas said, standing as the deep thumps of the bass filled the tent. They walked to the opening to the stage, and watched each other as they waited for their cue, and when it came they burst through the curtain and sprinted towards their silks. The thump pounded through the them, and Dean could feel it in his chest as he grabbed the linen and swung across the stage. The fabric billowed behind him as he sailed across the front of the stage, crossing in front of Cas. As the chorus started they twisted up the rope as they were lifted towards the ceiling. Cas reached down and pulled the white fabric towards his head and moved his arms gently, causing it to float about him like wings.  
Meanwhile, Dean was twisting himself in his black fabric into more and more complicated knots. He’d twisted his way as far up as he was able, and as the climax of the song thrummed through the room, Dean twisted out of the ribbon, tumbling limb over limb. The crowd gasped as the distance between Dean and the floor shortened. Cas hooked his knees around his silk, and dove after Dean. As Dean twisted his body, he reached up and grabbed Cas’ outreached hand. They slid to a stop, and Cas flicked his ankles, causing his silks to fly up again in wings.  
The lights went out, and the crowd screamed. Applause and stomping filled the tent, and the curtain clicked closed.  
“You okay?” Dean shouted up to Cas, breathing heavily.  
“Yes, are you?” Cas called back.  
“I’m good,” Dean said. He looked up, and in the dim light he could make out his partners face. They grinned at each other for a moment, and seemed to realize at the same time they were still holding hands. With a start, they released their grip, and as Cas slid down the silk, Dean untwisted himself and summersaulted to the floor.  
“You did good, Cas,” Dean said, wrapping him in a one-armed hug.  
“Thank you, Dean.” Cas said, hugging him back.  
“Dean-o! You crushed it, my friend. You’re getting closer to Sam every day,” Alistair said, walking past the pair of acrobats.  
“Who’s Sam?” Cas asked, suspicion written through his features.  
Dean’s eyes flicked to the side. “Not here,” he whispered. “Not now.” He disappeared into the throngs of stagehands and performers. Cas stared after him before heading for his trailer.  
Cas looked around at the lush evergreen forests surrounding the circus tent. It was nothing like the deciduous greenspace and farmland he was accustomed to, but something about the fresh smell of pine needles and rain made him relax.  
He stood for a moment and imagined he was really the angel he pretended to be in his performance. He could imagine gargantuan wings sprouting from his shoulders- however, unlike his abstracted white stage wings he imagined ebony feathers with sapphire, amethyst and gold flecked throughout.  
He let his imagination run free for a moment, and imagined these wings carrying him away from the horrors of his past and of Alistair’s circus.  
And Dean.  
And just like that, the illusion shattered. And he noticed that he wasn’t alone.  
“Well, hey there Clarence,” the woman said. It was Meg, a dancer who portrayed a demon in the hellish King of the Damned routine. He’d seen it several times, and he couldn’t deny that it was breathtaking. Crowley, the main performer, lit batons aflame and juggled them while Meg and a team of lithe, graceful dancers performed around him. It was incredible.  
“I don’t understand that reference,” Cas said, turning away from the woman whose personality mirrored her characters too closely for Cas’ comfort.  
“You’ll get it someday,” She said, sashaying closer and running her hand seductively down Cas’ taunt tricep. She moved in front of him and leaned in. “You were incredible tonight, Clarence,” she whispered.  
Cas averted his eyes. Meg was breathtaking in her costume- a strapless leather unitard that hugged each curve beautifully. But-  
“Leave me alone, Meg. Alistair has a strict rule- no fraternizing with other performers. He doesn’t run a home for children, he runs a business.”  
“He run’s a mafia, Clarence. You know that and I know that.”  
“Even more reason to obey him- because he certainly doesn’t run an orphanage.” He shook her off and turned to walk away.  
“Castiel, he’d let you away with anything,” she said, crossing her arms and cocking her hip.  
“What are you talking about, I’ve only been here a week.” Cas snapped.  
“I’ve been here a long time, but in all that time I’ve never seen a crowd react to a performance the way they just reacted to yours.”  
“They were cheering for Dean.”  
“Don’t be stupid, Castiel. Dean is a crowd favourite, but his solo routines never got him that kind of reaction.”  
Cas paused for a moment and mulled that over. He snapped out of it when Meg flounced over and batted her glittering black and gold eyes at him. “That doesn’t change my answer Meg. I won’t make a move against Alistair.” With that he stomped into the night. 

 

Three days later, the show was closing down and moving to a new city. It had been the most successful set the circus had ever seen- every night was a sold out show, and their next location had already sold out too as news of Cas and Dean’s performance spread.  
“Dean-o, I never could have done this without you,” Alistair said, walking over and stooping to lift one of Dean’s trunks. Dean grabbed the other one, and they walked side by side to the train that would take them to Stanford, California. “So,” Alistair continued, setting the trunk down. “As a reward, I’m letting you visit your brother.” At Dean’s exuberant expression, Alistair held up a silencing finger. “One hour, on the work site and he’ll get a free ticket to see you perform.”  
“That’s very generous, sir.” Dean set his other trunk and his duffel bag on the ground. “It means the world to me.”  
“You earned it, Dean-o. Keep up the good work, and I’ll consider taking a year off your contract.”  
Dean grinned to himself, and for the millionth time, sent a prayer to his brother. ‘I’m coming, Sammy.’

 

“Hey, there, buddy boy,” a chipper, animated voice called. Cas turned to face a short man with a lollipop in his mouth and Crowley.  
“Um, hello,” Cas said, taking a tentative step back. This man was practically bursting at the seams with energy, and Crowley was far too intimidating in his dark suit. Much like Meg, his resemblance to his character was uncanny.  
“Name’s Gabriel. Stage name is Loki- I’m an illusionist.” The short man said, thrusting his hand forward. Cas gave him a disapproving look, reached out, and flipped Gabriel’s hand over, revealing the small buzzer in his palm. “Ooo, new boy’s got game.”  
“That’s not all he’s got,” Crowley said, hands tucked in his pants pockets. “Buddy boy, you’ve got what they call sex appeal.”  
“I don’t think I want it,” Cas said, politely trying to step away and end the conversation.  
“Aw, c’mon, Cassie, we’re only teasing,” Gabriel said. Cas cringed at the undesirable nickname. “We merely came to congratulate you on becoming the biggest underdog this company has ever seen.”  
“And,” Crowley said as Cas looked at Gabriel skeptically. “To offer a deal.”  
“You can’t offer me a deal, you ass, I have nothing to barter. Plus, my last Deal is what landed me here, so you’ll forgive me if I’m not interested.”  
“It’s not really a deal, more of a business transaction. Talk to your partner about a joint task force, so to speak. Our three acts combined would be something no one has ever seen before, and would bring the house down.”  
Cas considered it for a moment, then said, “Well it’s one thing to get Dean involved, but we still have to clear it with Alistair.”  
“Listen Cas, you and Dean are Al’s golden boys,” Crowley said. “If you two pitch him this idea, he’s sure to go with it.”  
“And what’s in it for you two?”  
“Our dear benefactor takes time off contracts when you please him. Word on the street, Dean’s well on his way to having years taken off. You keep on the track you’re on, you’ll follow him out the door. We’re just hoping for a few months.”  
Cas sighed, carefully considering the potential for ulterior motives.  
“I’ll talk to Dean.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Dean?” Cas said, tapping lightly on the door to the small train compartment.  
“Hey, Cas, come on in,” Dean said, putting down the book he was reading. Cas took a tentative step inside, sliding the door closed behind him. “Cas, what’s going on?”  
“I need to talk to you about something,” Cas said, watching Dean’s face closely.  
Dean sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Sit down, Cas.” Cas blinked, and quickly shuffled to the bench across from Dean. “Yesterday you asked me who Alistair was talking about.”  
“Yes…”  
“Sam… my brother-“  
“Dean, you don’t have to-“  
“Yeah, Cas, I do,” Dean inhaled deeply. “Sam is my brother. He’s twenty two. Brilliant kid- he’s at Stanford. He’s going to law school. And the only family I have-“ Dean choked back tears. “He had a run in with Alistair- made a Deal. But then he tried to back out. He came to me, sobbing and panicking. He said Alistair had put a hit out on him. I was- I was trying to get him to calm down and talk to me when the door was kicked down. It was Alistair and his best girl, Ruby. They’d come for Sam…”  
“Oh my God, Dean,” Cas whispered.  
“I begged them, my life for Sam’s. Ruby had a knife against Sammy’s throat, and Alistair was just standing there. Not saying anything. I pleaded with him to let Sammy go. And Sam was yelling for me to stop, and Ruby told him to shut up and pressed the knife into his throat even harder, and I screamed for Alistair to take the Deal. He accepted it, and he dragged me out of the apartment. Sam tried to follow, but Ruby hit him. Alistair dragged me around the corner, and the last thing I saw was Ruby beat Sam into the ground. I haven’t seen him since.” One tear rolled out of his eye, and he wiped it away.  
Cas stared at him, trying to figure out the best thing to say. Eventually, he decided on the truth. “Mine wasn’t anything like that,” he said. Dean looked up at him. “My brother, Raphael, he, uh, he was trying to ruin my father. My dad had built his business from the ground up, and Raphael was trying to tear it all down. So I enlisted Alistair’s services. He sent Ruby after Raphael, and now I’m here. The point is, Dean, you did what you did to save your brother. You’re a hero, Dean.”  
“I’m no hero, Cas.”  
“That’s not true. Not only have you saved your brother, you saved me.”  
“What are you talking about,” Dean scoffed.  
“Without you, I would have been sent to Purgatory. You saved me from that.” Cas paused for a second, and decided now was as good a time as any to bring up Crowley’s scheme. “Listen, Dean, what I actually came to talk to you about was a new idea for a show. I know, that’s the last thing you want to consider right now,” Cas said, talking over Dean. “But I think it would help you get to Sam sooner.”  
“How?” Dean asked. He was already doing everything he could think of to get time taken off his Deal.  
“Crowley and Gabriel came to talk to me earlier, and they suggested the four of us combine our shows into one grand act. Dean,” Cas said, holding up a silencing hand at the alarmed expression on Dean’s face. “Think about it. Crowley’s routine is incredible, as is ours. Those alone combined would make an amazing act, and would be enough to get Alistair’s attention. Bring in an illusionist, and we’ve got ourselves a bombshell.” Cas watched Dean’s eyes as the original spark of interest in Dean’s eyes blew up into cunning realization.  
“This could work,” Dean said excitedly. “This might be just the edge we need to get out of here.”

 

The California sun beat down on the back of Dean’s neck as he and a small team set up the main performance tent.  
“Okay, easy, now pull!” Dean shouted, pulling on the rope. The silk frame was hoisted into the air, and Cas and six dancers rushed to either post to stabilize them. Once they were stable, Dean turned away and reached for his water bottle. He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand, and rolled the tension out of his shoulders.  
“Dean!”  
Dean’s head snapped around at the sound of the familiar voice- towards Sam. His brother was working his way towards him through the crowd, grinning excitedly. Dean spun and sprinted towards his brother, apologizing to a woman he collided with.  
“Sam!” He shouted as he and his brother collided. He embraced his brother, laughing and grinning as he clapped his hands against his back. Dean noticed Ruby lurking a few feet away, sharp brown eyes watching them.  
“Are you alright?” Sam whispered.  
“Yeah, Sam, I’m great.” Dean pulled away and looked up at his brother. “Listen, why don’t we go talk.” His eyes flicked to Ruby again. “Alone,” he added, just loud enough for Ruby to hear.  
She marched forward, saying, “Dean, no. I am to accompany your brother for the entirety of his stay-“  
“Ruby, am I or am I not Alistair’s best performer?”  
“Dean-“  
“And am I or am I not the reason we are having out best string of shows ever?” Ruby crossed her arms. “You can hang out around the trailer, fine, but I need to be alone with my brother.”  
“Fine,” She snapped.

 

Dean closed his mini fridge and handed his brother a ginger ale. “Sorry- no booze allowed.”  
“It’s okay, Dean,” Sam said, sitting down at the small table. Dean sat across from him, and they stared at each other for several long moments; now that the initial wave of excitement had passed, they weren’t sure what to say to each other.  
Eventually Sam broke the silence. “Dean, I am so sorry. This is all my fault-“  
“Jesus, Sammy. No. It is my job to protect you- I always have, and I always will. I don’t regret a damn thing.”  
“But you’re trapped here for ten years because I wasn’t strong enough-“  
“Sam, listen to me. There is nothing I would put in front of you- past or present. Not even my freedom. It doesn’t matter, anyways, Sam, because Alistair may be an evil son of a bitch, but he’s fair. When you do well in the company, he takes time off your Deal.”  
“Are you really his best performer?”  
“So I’ve been told. Up until last week I was his only aerial dancer.”  
“What happened last week?”  
“I got a new partner- his name is Castiel. Our routine is definitely the best in the show- they sold out completely for this set and last set.”  
“Wow- that’s great Dean.”  
“And we have a plan- Cas and I are going to join up with two other acts- it’ll be incredible Sammy- and it might just be enough to get me out early. I’m already on my way to getting out a year early- if I can innovate this circus, I might bet several years taken off.”  
“That’s amazing, it really is, but… you’ll still be at least thirty by the time you get out, Dean. I still ruined your life.”  
“Sammy, you really gotta stop blaming yourself- I chose this. And come on, it’s not that bad. Believe it not, working here isn’t so bad. Alistair is a fair employer, and I actually enjoy my work.”  
“An aerial dancer, right? What does that mean?”  
“Have you ever heard of silks?”

 

“This is where I perform,” Dean said, holding his hands out in a grandeur gesture. “And this,” he said, gesturing to Cas as he entered the tent, “is my partner, Cas.”  
“Hello, Sam,” Cas said, smiling as he shook some of the chalk they used onto his hands.  
“Uh, hi,” Sam said, giving Cas a small wave.  
“Sam wants to see us on the silks- a private show before tonight, to see how they work.”  
“Sure, uh, just warmup stuff or an actual routine?”  
“Just warmups I think- he’ll see a routine tonight.”  
“Okay,” Cas said, walking over to the white ribbon hanging from the ceiling. He began winding it around his hand as Dean hooked his iPod up to the portable speaker. As the music started, he twisted his body up into the rope, and Dean pulled his shirt over his head and ran at his silk. He grabbed on, and hoisted his legs above his head. He hooked his ankle in the fabric and began twisting himself into the ribbon. The music pounded through him and, as always, he felt an incredible sense of freedom as he forced his body into the poses. Except this time his brother was watching him, and that made a new sense of pride run through him as well.  
As the song ended, he and Cas dropped to the ground and walked to Sam. “What do you think?” Dean asked, smiling as he used his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead.  
“You two are incredible!” Sam gushed, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Really, that was amazing.”  
“Thank you, Sam,” Cas said, wiping the back of his neck off with a towel.  
Sam was opening his mouth to speak when Alistair’s voice boomed through the tent. “Play times over, kids. Time for Sam to go home for the day.”  
As much as Dean wanted to, he didn’t argue, knowing it would only get him in trouble and possibly get Sam hurt. He reached over and hugged his brother, and despite the fact that Dean was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Sam hugged him back. The hugged each other with enough force that neither could breathe, and the back of Dean’s throat ached. Ruby placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, prying the brothers apart, and Sam was forced through the door of the tent.  
Cas placed a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean looked at his partner with an anguished look on his face before turning back to where Sam had left and let his memory take him back to the night he signed the contract. 

\--four months ago--  
“Dean, open the door!” Sam shouted, fist pounding on the door to Dean’s apartment.  
“Sam, what’s going on?” Dean asked as he opened the door. Sam scrambled inside, and slammed the apartment door. “Sammy-“  
“They’re after me, Dean. They’re trying to kill me.”  
“What? Sam what are you talking about?”  
“I tried to back out of my Deal but it was done and now there’s a hit out on me!”  
“Sam you’re not making any sense- hey!” Dean grabbed onto his brothers forearms as Sam began tearing at his hair. “Calm down and talk to me-“  
The door was flung open and a woman dressed in black holding a blade marched through the doorway. Dean released Sam and put himself between her and Sam.  
“Dean, no- Dean!” Sam shouted as the woman attacked him. Despite her small build she forced Dean to his knees and punched him across the jaw. “No-stop!” Sam yelled. The woman moved past Dean to the younger Winchester.  
“No!” Dean bellowed, shooting to his feet the same time another man’s voice rang through the room.  
“Sam, Sam, Sam. You’ve made a real mess of things, haven’t you?”  
“Stop, you bitch!” Dean shouted.  
“Who are you?” The man said.  
“Dean- I’m Sam’s older brother. What the hell is going on?”  
“Your brother made a Deal, Dean-o, but he’s not willing to pay the price. My services aren’t free, however he seems to have the wrong impression of the type of organization I run. Hold on, Ruby,” he added as the woman slammed Sam into the wall as Dean bellowed, “Leave him alone!”  
“Calm down, everyone,” the man said.  
“So what kind of organization do you run?” Dean snapped.  
“A mafia, my friend. I offer my services, and in return I get paid. If you can’t pay with money, then you pay with ten years of service. Sam here tried to back out of his contract, but the deed was done. There’s no going back, and then he ran. So now, he’s dead.”  
“Take me,” Dean said immediately.  
“Dean, no!” Sam shouted, tears spilling out of his eyes.  
“My life, for his, it’s a fair trade.”  
“Dean-“  
“Shut up,” Ruby said, pressing here blade into Sam’s throat hard enough to break the skin. Blood trickled down over Sam’s collar bone.  
“Enough! Take the Deal!” Dean shouted. The man stood still, watching. ”Let me take his place, please, just let the kid go!”  
“Dean, stop!” Sam said.  
“I said quiet!” Ruby snarled, opening a gash across Sam’s chest.  
“The Deal! Take it! My life for my brothers, and he gets to walk away!”  
“Done,” the man said. He marched forward and forced Dean back to his knees, securing his wrists behind his back.  
“No!” Sam shouted as Dean was hauled to his feet by the back of his shirt and dragged to the door. Sam tried to shove his way past Ruby to his brother, but she kneed him in the stomach before forcing him to the floor.  
She beat him into the ground as he held up his hands to protect himself. “No!” Dean shouted, lunging forward. The man yanked him back. “You said you’d let him go!” Dean roared.  
“And we will, Dean-o, but your brother needs to be taught a lesson.” Dean was dragged around a corner and lost his sightline of his brother. He stopped struggling and allowed himself to be dragged into the alley behind his building. He imagined being shot, and his body left to be discovered by Sam. Instead, the man shoved him into the back of an SUV and handed him a poster.  
“The Magnificent Seven?” Dean read.  
“Welcome to the circus, kid.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have homework this section!   
> just kidding, it's more like an optional assignment.   
> anyways, if you listen to the song World on Fire by Les Friction, you'll have a much better feel for Dean and Cas' performance this chapter.

“Dean?” Cas asked, getting Dean’s attention as he walked up behind him.   
“Yeah?” Dean asked, looking up and meeting Cas’ eyes in the mirror.   
“We’re on in two minutes.”  
“Kay,” Dean said, straightening. He double checked his make up to make sure the lines were crisp, and walked by Cas’ side to the entrance to the stage. “What routine are we doing again?”  
“World on Fire,” Cas said, shooting a look at Dean. “Dean, are you alright?”  
“Yeah, it’s just been hard seeing my brother again.” Dean took a deep breath. He looked down at himself- he was wearing a pair of black leather pants, and golden flames licked across his chest. Cas was dressed identically.   
“I know,” Cas placed a hand on Dean’s arm. Dean felt his stomach twist as he gave him an appreciative look.   
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Alistair’s voice boomed over the speaker system. “Tonight is a very special night for the Angel and the Hunter- not only are they performing a brand new routine, but the Hunter’s younger brother is here with us tonight! Sam, why don’t you stand up for a second?” The spotlight swung around, and Dean peeked through the curtain. Sam was standing in the front row, waving tentatively. “So, ladies and gentlemen, would you kindly put your hands together for tonight’s final performance, the Hunter and the Angel!”   
The crowd went wild, screaming and clapping and whistling.   
The lights faded to red, and the opening cords played. As the lyrics started, Dean and Cas walked onto the stage.   
“I’ll return from darkness and save your precious skin/I will end your suffering and let the healing light come in.” The boys reached their silks, and grabbed on as they were reeled into the air. They slowly but efficiently twisted themselves into the fabric, completely in sink, and held their position as they waited for the chorus.   
“World on fire with a smoking sun/ stops everything and everyone/ brace yourself for all will pay/ help is on the way.” They tumbled out of the ribbons, twisting and falling. The crowd went wild.   
As the second verse started, they danced their way back up the silks, building the intensity of the moves with the intensity of the song.   
“Who will save your precious skin/ who will let the healing light come crashing in/who will cover you when the sky….”  
“COMES CRASHING IN!” The guitar solo began, and they summersaulted down the ribbons, hitting the floor just long enough to propel themselves back up the ribbons. As the final cords played, they twisted their bodies, staying parallel to the floor, falling several feet and coming to an abrupt halt in time with the song, and as it ended, they curled into fetal position, facing the ground, revolving slowly as the crowd lost their minds. They held the position until they were able to touch the floor, and walked to the edge of the stage, bowing and waving as the crowd continued cheering, the cacophony of noise exploding through the tent.   
Dean reached out, linking his and Cas’ hands and hoisting them above their heads. Cas’ eyes flicked to him for a moment before they joined the cheering. After a moment, they released their joined hands and left the stage. 

 

By the next week they were back home at the training centre. Everyone was on a high from their success, and HQ was buzzing with excitement.   
Dean knocked on the door to Alistair’s office, waiting for permission to enter. When it came, he opened the door, walking silently to the chair in front of Alistair’s desk, and waited.   
For several minutes, Alistair didn’t acknowledge his presence and continued working on his computer, and Dean sat quietly, looking at his lap. Eventually, Alistair closed the laptop and said, “What can I do for you, Dean-o?”  
Dean looked up, and said, “I have an idea for a new performance.”  
“Why do I care? You get to choreograph all your routines, Dean, you don’t have to check with me.”  
“This isn’t about choreography. I mean a whole new act.”  
“I'm listening,” Alistair said, leaning back in his chair.   
“Cas and I, plus Crowley plus Gabriel. Joint task force- it would be amazing.”  
“It could also be a disaster.”   
“I’d make sure it isn’t.”   
Alistair tented his fingers, considering the offer. “My gut instinct is to say no- too much room for error. However… given our recent success, and given your responsibility for it… I’ll allow it.”  
“Thank you sir-“ Dean said, standing.   
“But,” Alistair said, signalling for Dean to sit down again. “This must go off without a hitch. Not one mistake, am I clear?”  
“Yes sir.”   
“If anything goes wrong, someone’s going on the rack.”  
A chill ran down Dean’s spine as he remembered the rack. “I will make sure everything is perfect.”

 

“Okay, so Alistair has given us the go-ahead,” Dean said to the assembled performers. Crowley and Cas remained sombre, sensing the catch, but Gabe grinned.  
“Perfect,” the illusionist said, unwrapping a chocolate and popping it in his mouth.   
“There is only one stipulation,” Dean said with a sigh. “It must be perfect. One screw up will get the perpetrator sent to the rack.”   
“Bullocks,” Crowley said.   
“We’ll just have to make sure it’s perfect, then,” Cas said. 

 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered and he slipped out of one of the most complicated knots in the history of man.   
“Dean, are you alright?” Cas called as he grunted and pulled himself upright.   
“I’m fine- Jesus!” He shouted as a plume of coloured smoke and glitter filled the air beside him. He glared down at Gabriel, who was standing at the base of his silk.   
“Sorry, Dean-o,” Gabe called up as he stuck a lollipop in his mouth.  
Dean groaned in frustration and dropped his face into the silk. He could hear Crowley barking at his dancers, the thump of their feet against the hardwood, the sound of Cas’ laboured breathing a few feet away from him, and the sizzle of another smoke bomb being set off.  
“Cas?” He called, looking up.   
“Yes?”  
“How do you feel about trying the pendulum drop?”  
“I feel like I’d rather eat glass,” Cas responded, hoisting his feet above his head.  
“Cas, come on. We have to do it sooner or later.”  
“No thanks, I choose life.”  
“Come on, Cassie!” Gabe said, setting off another smoke bomb. The smoke and glitter filled the air mere inches from Cas, and Cas shot him a poisonous look as a layer of glitter dusted his hair.   
“Gabriel, if you set one of those off near me again, I will fall on you.”  
“Loosen up, Cassie.”  
“And for the love of God, stop calling me that!” Cas shouted down at him.  
“Alright, boys, that’s enough,” Crowley said, turning away from his troupe of dancers. As soon as his back was turned, they all collapsed. “We have work to do. Gabriel, keep the smoke and glitter away from the silks- every time one of those things go off near them, Dean and Cas risk falling, and I’ll not have you ruining my chances of getting out of here. And Cas? Do your bloody routine!”  
Crowley angrily spun around, snapping at his dancers. They scrambled back to a standing position, scampering into formation as Crowley grabbed his batons.   
“Douche,” Dean muttered before turning to his partner. “So? How bout it?”  
“I’d still rather eat glass… but let’s do it.”  
Dean called out to the stage hand that they were practicing the pendulum drop, and he didn’t miss the look of horror on her face. Cas didn’t either, and pointed to her as if to say ‘see? This is a terrible idea!’ Dean just shrugged, and dropped to the ground. Cas followed, and as the silks were pulled towards the ceiling, they began wrapping them around their bodies. As the device at the ceiling swung them to the back of the stage, the frantically finished the knot, and as it swung them forward, they dropped out of the knots. Dean felt his stomach launch into his throat as he snapped to a stop above where the front row of seats would be, and grinned as he tumbled towards the floor as they swung back to centre stage. His feet touched the ground at the same time Cas’ did, and they grinned at each other as adrenaline pumped through their veins.   
Then they noticed everyone in the room was staring at them, mostly with their jaws dropped. Gabriel was the first one to speak. “You two are insane,” he said, and launched glitter into the air. 

 

“So,” Dean said, pulling out two ginger ales out of the fridge. “Your brother Raphael?”  
Cas accepted the drink, and sat down on the bench at the table. Dean flopped onto the bed across from him. He sighed, then began the tale that lead to his imprisonment.

 

\--12 weeks ago--  
“Father is dead,” Michael said, his voice crackling over the telephone line.   
“What?” Cas said as his stomach dropped.  
“Father died this morning of heart failure- you’re needed in San Francisco for the reading of his will.”  
“Michael, I can’t just drop everything here- I have a life in Chicago-“   
“Castiel, you’re needed here.”   
“I understand that Michael, but I have a foster daughter, Claire. I just need some time to make arrangements-“  
“Castiel, you are to be here tomorrow morning by 10am. I have emailed you your plane ticket.” The line went dead.  
“Cas? Who was that?” Claire asked, walking into the kitchen.  
“My brother, Michael. My father has passed, and I’m needed in San Francisco by tomorrow morning. Claire, is there a friend you can stay with for a few days?”  
“Oh, shit, I'm really sorry, Cas. Let me send a few texts.”  
“Thank you, Claire.” Cas walked over to where his computer was set up at the kitchen table, and sent an email to Claire’s social worker filling her in on the situation, and letting her know that he would send another email shortly to let her know where Claire would be staying until he got back.  
Then he went upstairs to pack. He had to be at the airport at three, and it was already 8:00. ‘Naturally, Michael could not have notified me any sooner.’ He thought to himself.   
A soft knock on the door brought him out of his reverie. “Hey, Cas? Can you drive me over to Pam’s house?”  
“Of course- just make sure you text me her name address and phone number so that I can send them to your social worker.”  
“I will… hey, Cas? Are you sure you’re okay?”  
“I will be.” 

 

The reading of the will was a mess. Their father had left the company to all seven of his children- Castiel and his five brothers and their sister- Michael, Raphael, Balthazar, Uriel and the babies, Samandriel and his twin sister Anna.   
Michael and Raphael were shocked and horrified and the inclusion of the twins-Anna had run off in an attempt to be an artist in New York City, and Samandriel had yet to get his life together at twenty two and was working at a hotdog stand. Nonetheless, the lawyer said that the twins could not be excluded, and the seven of them would have to come to a unanimous conclusion- they would either sell the company to one of their father’s preapproved buyers, or continue running it.  
The family very quickly divided in two- it was Raphael against all his siblings. Raphael had never worked for their fathers company, instead choosing to build a branch that became an independent sector. He wanted to sell their fathers company, and earn a profit (which could bolster his own company in the absence of their father’s.)  
Everyone else wanted a continuous flow of cash. Especially the twins, who would get a cut but never had to contribute much and could continue leading their chosen lifestyle away from the family for the most part.   
After a week, Castiel had to return home.  
“I have a teenage dependant, Michael- I have to go home! Not to mention my job!”  
“We all have something waiting for us at home, Castiel- you’ll not leave until we’ve made a decision about the company.”  
“Michael, be reasonable. All I'm doing is sitting in a hotel room while Claire stays at a friend’s house. I don’t technically have custody- she could be seized by the state. I can communicate by Skype or fly in once a week until the problem has been solved- but I need to get back to my life.”  
“Castiel-“  
“No, Michael. Raphael is all that stands in the way. Until he changes his mind, nothing can happen.”  
“You will not leave.”  
“Michael-“  
“You see, I took your wallet,” Michael said, holding up Castiel’s wallet. “You can’t leave until a decision is made.” With that, he walked out of the room.  
Cas’ blood was boiling with rage. He couldn’t believe Michael was being so unreasonable- well, he could, but he was miffed by it nonetheless.  
His computer beeped on the desk, letting him know that he had received an email.   
‘Dean Mr. Novak,’ he read. ‘We regret to inform you that due to your continued absence, a social worker is being sent to collect Claire. If you are able to return to your life by one week for today, Claire will be granted back to your care. Until then she will reside at Sunnybrook Home for Girls.’  
Cas felt his heart rise up in his throat. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He and Claire had gotten so close over the last three months- he didn’t want to lose her over this.   
He remembered a friend form Chicago telling him about Alistair. He grabbed his cellphone, and dialed Bartholomew’s number.   
“Bartholomew? It’s Castiel. Yeah, I’m going to need to get in contact with Alistair.”

Three days later, Cas was meeting Alistair in a dark alley behind a diner in San Francisco.   
“It is done,” Alistair said. “No one will ever know it was a hit- it has been made to look like he was mugged.”   
“Thank you,” Cas said, voice tight. He felt sick to his stomach.   
“However, there has been a problem with your payment option. You see, we took a look at your bank statements. You don’t have the dough for a hit like this, Castiel.”  
“It’s coming,” Cas said. “We’ll get paid-“  
“Doesn’t matter,” Alistair said. “It’s unreliable- you’re unreliable. So, you’ve been deferred to the other payment option.”  
“And what would that be?”  
“The circus.”


	5. Chapter 5

“So… Claire?” Dean asked tentatively as Cas finished the story.  
“Undoubtedly believes I abandoned her. I’m sure she hates me.”  
“No, Cas, that’s not true-“  
“Oh, yes it is. I should have known better than to hire a mercenary to fix a problem like this- it was foolish, and caused me to hurt the person I cared most for. Claire is right to despise me.” Cas looked down at his hands. “I was so stupid.”  
“You were trying to do what you thought was right, Cas. Sure, you didn’t choose right, but you tried. That’s what matters.”  
Cas didn’t move for several long moments, then whispered, “thank you, Dean.”  
There was a loud knock on the suites door. “Curfew!” One of the dorm guards shouted.  
“Have a good night Dean,” Cas said, slipping into the hallway and headed to his room next door.  
Dean flicked on the small reading lamp on his bedside table as the dorm lights turned off- Alistair had them set so that the entire building shut down at 10:00, leaving everyone with only one small lamp.  
He picked up his book, and began reading. It was the same book he’d been reading for four months now. It had been Sam’s favourite, and one of the only possessions Dean was allowed to bring. He read until he drifted off to sleep and dropped his book on his face.  
Dean was used to the nightmares by now. Every night it was a little different, but with the same theme- he had to save Sam. They’d begun the first night of Dean’s imprisonment, and he hadn’t had one night without the nightmares since then. Tonight it was different though.

 

‘“Cas, come on,” DreamDean begged. DreamCas just shook his head, wide eye solemn as black tears leaked from them. “Castiel, please, I need you.” He held out his hand.  
“No, Dean,” DreamCas said. “I belong here.”  
DreamDean looked around. They were standing in the middle of a forest, mist floating around them. “You don’t belong here, Cas.”  
“Can’t you feel it?” DreamCas said. His voice was completely monotonous, and had a sleepy lull. The black tears rolled down his cheeks, and as DreamDean watched, DreamCas’ skin began to blister. “It’s pure here. I’ll be forgiven for what I’ve done.”  
“Cas, you’re dying!” DreamDean shouted. He took the few steps forward and wrapped one hand around DreamCas’ shoulder. “I already lost Sam- don’t make me lose you too.”  
“You can’t save everyone, Dean.”’

 

Dean jolted awake, Sam’s book falling into his lap. “Son of a bitch,” he said, rubbing his hand over his face. 

 

When his alarm went off the next morning at 5:00, Dean groaned and rolled out of bed. He pulled on his training leotard, and a pair of track pants. He tied his running shoes on and jogged over to the training building. As the son peaked over the horizon, he launched into an intense aerobics routine. After half an hour, Cas walked up in track pants and a hoodie. He had a pair of Olympic mittens on and was blowing into his hands.  
“Dean, it’s freezing outside, where is your sweater?”  
“My room,” Dean said, stopping his routine. “Thanks for showing up- you saved me from burpees.”  
“That sounds miserable.”  
“It is. But it makes me the best,” Dean said, throwing an arm around Cas’ shoulder. “Well, one of them.”  
Cas scoffed and shoved Dean with his hip. “I have not even an eighth of your talent, Dean.”  
“Oh bullshit. You’re an amazing performer, Cas.” Dean stopped and turned to look at Cas. “Hell, you’re an incredible performer. I never could have done this without you.”  
They watched each other, puffs of air mixing between them. The misty blue morning cast the yard into shadows. Cas swayed forward ever so slightly, lips centimeters away from Dean’s, a dazed look on his face.  
Dean stumbled a step back as the Cas from his nightmare flashed through his head. A hurt look bloomed across Cas’ face before he quickly smothered it.  
“Cas, I-“  
“No, Dean, I get it,” Cas said turning away.  
“Cas,” Dean grabbed at his hands.  
“Dean, no. It’s good. Really.” Cas yanked his hands away. “I’m good.” 

 

Rehearsal was a disaster. Dean and Cas were completely out of sync the entire time. Crowley was enraged. Even Gabriel was sombre.  
Things got worse when Alistair stormed in. “All I’ve had all day is complaints about the shouting coming from this centre, and I must say I’m less than impressed. I accessed the security cameras, boys. You perform in three days and all I’ve seen is two out of sync aerial dancers, a dance troupe lead by an angry batonist and a completely inadequate illusionist.”  
“Alistair, listen,” Dean said, walking towards him.  
“No, Dean, you listen.” Alistair grabbed the front of Dean’s shirt and yanked him forward. Cas’ breath hitched. Mere inches separated Dean and the handler as Alistair continued in a deadly whisper. “I gave you a chance and you blew it. We leave in three god-damn days and I’m out three acts because of you. The only thing I know is that at least one of you will be on the rack-“  
“Wait! Let us perform it. We’ll do the performance for you and if you’re still upset you can do whatever you want. But give this a chance- we can do this.”  
Alistair stared at Dean, his features hard. “Alright!” he shouted. Dean flinched, and Alistair shoved him away. “I want this entire act in the auditorium in twenty minutes, in full costumes. I want this performance to wow me and when I saw wow I mean make it as though this morning never happened.” Alistair glared at each of them. “This had better go off without a hitch or the rack will be full tonight.”

 

“Dean, what are we gonna do?” Cas asked in an angry whisper as they changed into their costumes.  
“I don’t know!” Dean opened the makeup case and began applying the dark powder around his eyes.  
“Seriously, Dean, we have,” Cas looked at the clock on the wall, “eight minutes to fix this.”  
“Cas, it’s not broken.” Dean whispered quickly. “Look, we have one chance here. Whatever happened this morning, we need to pretend it didn’t for the next fourteen minutes or we’re up for one of the most miserable experiences of our lives and that’s saying something considering the circumstances.”  
“It’s not that easy Dean-“  
“Look, I get that you’re upset and I am too!” Dean whispered angrily. “I get it but if we want to make it out of this then we need to get over it, okay? You can be pissed at me later but for now unless we forget about it and pull this off without a hitch we’re fucked.”

 

“Look,” Dean said do the other performers. “We can do this- we know the moves, we just need to pretend this morning never happened. We’ll do this and later we can be pissed at each other but for now, we’re our only hope.”  
Before anyone could say anything else, the music started. Cas, Crowley and Gabriel all ran to where they needed to be as Crowley’s dancers sashayed onto the stage as the silks were lowered to the floor. They split into two groups of six, each group at the base of a silk. Cas nodded to Dean from across the stage and the two began a slow, sensual dance to their ribbons. When they got close enough, the dancers reached out and began caressing and grabbing at them, tugging them into the center of the group. The struggled to escape, doing so by leaping for their silks at the exact same time. Dean tried to hid his grin as they were reeled towards the ceiling. ‘Come on, Cas, please keep it cool,’ he prayed to no one.  
The dancers continued to thrash at the base of the silks. Dean spared a glance down and saw only a tangle of limbs. Crowley's dancers jerked on the ribbon as Dean and Cas tried to climb, and as they made eye contact, they both slipped, tumbling out of the knots and remained suspended only by one foot.  
As Crowley’s batons lit up from the dark depth of the stage, Dean noticed that the auditorium was full- Alistair had assembled every prisoner to watch. As the batons were burned brighter, the dancers flocked to Crowley. There was a momentary lull in the music, and then it picked up the pace. Dean and Cas worked their way through the fabric, conscious on the coloured smoke and glitter filling the air below them, most manifesting into shapes, helping tell the story of a man and an angel trying to escape the King of Hell and his demons.  
Finally, the time came. Dean and Cas shot each other a reassuring look and twisted to the ground. The dancers engulfed them immediately, grabbing at them and running their hands down them. The dancers wrapped the ribbons expertly around them, and they finished the knot as they were reeled back into the air. Adrenaline pumped through Dean along with the pounding thump of the music as the pendulum swung them to the back of the stage. The crowd gasped as they flew forward, falling out of the knots.  
It should have gone off without a hitch- it had dozens of times before.  
Out of the corner of Dean’s eye he saw a black blur fly into the stands. His head snapped to the side, and he stared at the empty ribbon swinging beside him at the same time he heard a crash and several screams.  
“Cas!” 

 

The room was dark. Cas’ body ached, and his face felt crusty. He tried wipe away the itchy grime, but found he couldn’t move. He looked at the shackled binging his hands to the wire fence.  
“Oh no,” he whispered as the performance rushed back to him.  
He was on the rack.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long guys. I hope you like this chapter- I introduce a very special character who is close to all of our hearts I think

“Alistair, please, you gotta let him off the rack. He needs a doctor-“  
“Dean, you were warned that this performance had to be flawless, and that, my boy is what we pros call a bloody flaw!” Alistair roared, stomping through the training center.  
Dean followed a few steps behind him. “Please, he needs help he could be hurt. Let me take his place-“  
“Dean, the only reason you aren’t on the rack is because I have plans for you.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean that by this evening you will be on a plane to Miami where you will be locked up in Purgatory until I decide to let you out.”  
“Purgatory? But that’s for-“  
“Boot camp? Yeah, it is,” Alistair stopped and fisted his hand in Dean’s sweater. “You thought the rack was bad, Dean? Wait until you get to Purgatory. They’ll do things to you that you didn’t even know were possible.”  
“Please, please Alistair just let Cas out of his Deal, I’ll sign a second one, I swear. Just let Castiel go.”  
“Dean-o you’re in way over your head for that man.” Alistair said, shoving Dean away.  
“What? No I-“  
“What then? What Dean?”  
“It was my fault! I pushed him to do that drop. And now he’s hurt and I-“  
“Look, Dean, shut up. You’re not taking his place and you’re not signing a new deal.” Alistair walked away. “Oh, and Dean? You can kiss your early dismissal goodbye.”  
“Fuck,” Dean said, punching the wall.

 

Cas groaned as he began assessing the damage done in the fall. He definitely had a concussion, but that seemed to be the worst of it. Thankfully, the audience broke his fall. His shoulder burned, and he was guessing it was dislocated, but it was hard to tell when he was shackled to the wall.  
“Hello?” He shouted, and winced as his voice echoed through the chamber.   
Silence answered him.   
“Son of a bitch,” Cas said, quoting Dean. His head thumped back against the wall, and a wave of nausea washed over him. He swallowed down on the sickness. “Dean?” he called out into the emptiness. 

 

Dean walked between two guards towards the private jet that would fly him to Miami. Two more guards followed behind them carrying Dean’s trunks. Dean could see the hangar in the distance. He had a very narrow window to escape. If he waited too long the guards at the hangar would catch him. If he went too soon he wouldn’t get enough of a head start.   
He called on every memory of hand to hand combat his police officer father had ever taught him and waited for his opening.  
The guard on his left had his gun on his right hip, beside Dean. With a deep breath, Dean reached out and grabbed the guy’s collar and the weapon at the same time. He pivoted so the guard was a shield and brought his knee into the man’s stomach as he unhooked the clip on the holster. As the man gasped, Dean drew the weapon and took aim at the other guard, shooting him in the throat. He summoned all his strength to maintain his grip on his human shield.   
By now the guards holding his things had drawn their weapons. As the man Dean was holding began to struggle, he brought the butt of his gun down on the back of his head. He heard a shot and felt a burning in his shoulder as the bullet ripped through his flesh. He shouted in pain and shot the other two guards. The shooting was sloppy, and he was pretty sure they weren’t dead. The man he was holding shoved Dean off and broke free, then grabbed for the gun in Dean’s hands, but before he could take it, Dean shot him in the forehead. He grabbed extra ammo off the closest guards and ran into the woods surrounding the campus.   
The entire encounter only lasted about a minute but he could already hear a commotion in the hangar. He pushed his body and sprinted for the forest. Once he was deep enough in that he couldn’t be spotted from the treeline he slowed to a walk and crept through the trees as quietly as he could. He was glad he’d thought to put on a dark green and beige plaid flannel, as he blended with his surroundings easily.  
When he had been walking for twenty minutes, and had moved several hundred metres out past the hangar, he ducked into a den made up of a fallen tree and several bushes to take inventory and treat his wound.   
He’d grabbed enough ammo to last him through several fire fights, but he’d have to get more. Then Dean looked at his shoulder. It was a mess, pumping blood out and down his arm. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, then shoved his fingers into the wound and dug for the bullet. It took several minutes and two additional tries but eventually he removed the slippery intruder. He tore off a strip of fabric from his shirt and stuffed it into the wound. He took some deep breaths and braced himself as the world spun.   
Dean knew there was a city a fifteen minute drive out, and began the hike that would get him there. He got there in about an hour and a half, and stayed hidden for another fifteen minutes by a gas station to make sure none of Alistair’s men were around. When he was certain he was clear, he adopted his most casual gait and entered the store.   
He walked up to the counter, and in an urgent tone, said, “Please, miss, I need to use your phone.”  
The young girl, maybe twenty two, looked up and jumped. “Oh my God! Are you all right? Your shoulder-“   
“I know- I was hiking in the woods and I tripped and a stick impaled me. Would I be able to use your phone?” He glanced around at the windows to make sure none of Alistair’s men had turned up.  
“Uh, yeah of course.” The girl gave him a confused look, pulled out her cell phone and handed it to him. “Here you go.”  
“Thank you,” Dean said, and pointed to a corner. The girl nodded and Dean tucked himself away.   
The phone rang, one, twice, three times. “Come on, Sammy, answer the phone.” The phone rang one more time, and then Sam came on the line.  
“Hello?”  
“Sam? Thank God,” Dean said as a wave of relief washed over him.  
“What? Yes, who is- wait. Dean?”  
“Yeah, it’s me. Listen-“  
“What’s going on?”   
“I don’t have time to explain, but you need to disappear, right now. Alistair’s probably going to send someone after you, and you need to disappear.”  
“Dean, I don’t understand.”  
“You don’t need to, Sammy. Please, you won’t have much time left. Pack a bag, disappear. In three weeks, I’ll meet you at Bobby’s,” Dean said, referring to the man who had been like a second dad to them.  
“Okay. Goodbye, Dean.” The line went dead.  
“Bye Sam,” Dean whispered to a ghost. Dean closed the phone and handed it back to the desk clerk. “Thank you.” He turned to leave.  
“Wait,” She said, calling after him. “Dean… Don’t you recognize me?”  
Dean stopped and stared at her for a minute. “Jo?” The girl nodded and smiled. “Oh my god.” Dean surged forward and hugged her over the counter. “I didn’t even recognize you.” Jo had cut her hair into a pixie cut and died it brown, but it was definitely her.  
“Well, you didn’t look at me much. You look terrified Dean.”   
“I- yeah. There are some people I’m trying very hard to avoid who really want me dead.”  
“What?” her voice went up about sixteen octaves.  
Dean shushed her as several other customers turned to face them. “Listen we can talk but not here. Can we go somewhere?”  
“Yeah, my shift ends in twenty minutes. Grab a sandwich and wait for me in the break room.”  
As Dean ate, he tried to remember the last time he’d seen Jo. It had to be well over a decade. Their dad’s had been partners in the force, but Jo’s dad was killed when John, Dean’s father, made a mistake. John blamed himself for the accident, and before long he wasn’t able to face Jo and her mother Ellen.  
While their fathers were partners though, Dean had practically been raised by Ellen. His mom had died when he was four, and when John was working, he and Sam stayed with Ellen. Jo was like a sister, and it had taken a long time to stop missing her when they moved away and eventually stopped talking.  
A kid with a mullet walked into the staff room five minutes before Jo’s shift ended. “Um… hello?”  
“Hi,” Dean said, trying to look casual. “My names Dean, I’m a friend of Jo’s.”  
“Ash, also a friend,” he said. He and Dean shook hands. “I’ve never heard her talk about you…?”  
“We were raised together as kids, but my family moved away and we fell out of touch.”  
“Oh, gotcha… Dude, you’ve got some nasty shoulder action going on there.” Ash said, gesturing to his own shoulder  
Dean forced a laugh. “Yeah, I was hiking and tripped. A stick tried to kill me.”  
“Dude, that blows.”   
“Tell me about it,” Dean said, forcing another laugh. They heard Jo shout for Ash out in the front room.  
“Better go- duty calls.”   
A minute later Jo came in. “Just give me a second to get changed, and I can fix your shoulder.”  
Dean nodded, and pulled off the plaid flannel, leaving only his t-shirt. After a minute Jo pulled out a first aid kit. “This isn’t really from a stick, is it?” She asked, sitting down and pulling out the supplies she needed.  
“Gunshot wound,” Dean groaned as she cut off the sleeve of the shirt and along the shoulder seam to open the wound up. “I dug the bullet out already.” Jo pulled the wadded up fabric out of the injury.  
“Is this your handiwork?” She asked, holding up the bloody fabric.  
“Hey, it stopped the bleeding.”  
“If you say so… I’m just gonna clean it with some antiseptic.”   
“I’d rather just eat glass,” Dean said, and felt his stomach knot up at the unwelcome reminder of his partner.   
“Don’t be a baby,” Jo said, mistaking is sadness for wimpy-ness.   
“Sorry, go ahead,” Dean said, and leaned back in his chair so she had direct access to the hole in his shoulder. He bit down on his knuckles as she poured the alcohol over the seeping wound. A mix of blood and antiseptic raced down his arm, washing away some of the gore. Dean’s breath hissed out through his teeth as the burn subsided to a sting. “That hurt like a bitch.”  
“Worse than getting shot?” Jo teased, drying it off and applying a bandage.   
Dean snorted a laugh. “I guess not.” He stood and tested the mobility of his shoulder. “Listen, Jo, I need your help.”  
“Anything I can do to help, I’ll do it.”  
“Do you have a car?” She nodded. “On our way I’ll explain what’s going on.”  
They ran out to the car and Dean instructed her too head to the nearest gun store.   
“I don’t have any money, so I need you to buy ammo- lots of it- and a riffle.”  
Jo nodded. “There’s a hoodie in the back, throw it on, it should fit you.” Dean reached back and grabbed the navy blue sweater. “Police Foundations?” He read.  
“I graduated in the spring, and I’ve been accepted to the academy for the fall.”  
“That’s great,” he said, pulling it over his head.  
“Dean, what’s going on?”  
“Have you ever heard of the Magnificent Seven?”   
Jo nodded. “Yeah, it’s a local circus. Their headquarters are like fifteen minutes outside of town.”  
“Yeah. Well it’s actually an extension of the mafia. The leader, Alistair runs the circus as a way of making money. When you contract him, you can pay for his services in cash, but if you can’t-“  
“He forces you into the circus,” Jo said, putting the pieces together. “Dean, what did you do?”  
“Seven months ago a signed a Deal to save Sam- he’d made a Deal but tried to get out of it. They were going to kill him, so I made a trade, my life for his. I figured they’d kill me and let Sam go, but Alistair had different plans for me.  
“However, he figured I needed to be punished for what Sam did. He put me on the rack,” Dean’s voice shook a little with fear. “They shackle you to the wall, deprive you of sleep and starve you, all that fun stuff. They keep it dark so you lose track of time, and even if you’re only there for a couple days, it feels like years.”  
“That’s awful, Dean,” she whispered.  
“It wasn’t all bad. It turns out I’m a pretty great aerial dancer- I perform on the silks. It’s awesome. Three months ago I got a new partner- Cas. Together, we were incredible. My act has always been impressive but Cas and I brought the house down.”  
“He sounds amazing…” she said, hyper aware of the fond tone in Dean’s voice.   
“He’s great. We joined up with another act to try and get some time taken off our sentence- Alistair does that when you impress him. He warned us that it had to be perfect. Yesterday we had to perform for Alistair to prove we could do it. We were doing this crazy drop. We’d done it dozens of times, we should have been okay, but Cas fell.”   
“Is he okay?”   
“I wish I knew. Alistair put him on the rack, and he was sending me to Miami.”  
“What’s in Miami?” Jo asked, turning into the parking lot.  
“Purgatory.”  
“The gay bar?” Jo asked and put the car in park. She twisted to face Dean.  
“What? No, it’s Alistair’s training slash torture camp. I didn’t know about the latter until he decided to ship me out.”   
“And you decided you have a soft spot for Nebraska back country?”  
“I need to get Cas out,” Dean said in a broken voice.   
“Dean no,” Jo said, voice firm as fear welled up in her eyes.   
“It’s my fault, Jo. He didn’t want anything to do with that trick, and I pressured him to do it. I’m the reason he’d on the rack.”  
“Dean, you can’t go back there. Dean,” She said, talking over him. “You were lucky to get out the first time; I highly doubt you’ll swing it twice.”  
“Jo, please. I’m begging you to help me do this. I don’t know why, but Cas means something to me! He means a lot to me. I can’t let them do to him what they did to me.”   
Jo sighed and faced forward again. “Okay, fine.”   
“Thank you-“  
“But,” Jo said, shooting him a look, “I’m going with you.”  
“I can’t ask you to do that.”  
“You’re not asking,” She said, shaking her head.  
“I can’t let you do that,” Dean said, voice pleading.   
“Dean, you’re not going in alone, it’s suicide. I’m going with you,” she said, shutting the car off and getting out.   
Dean groaned and quickly followed her. They purchased two shotguns, Jo got a hand gun, and enough ammo to fight a small war.  
Which, Dean figured, was what they were going to do.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A real change to the dynamic of the story happens in this chapter. Lots of violence, just as a heads up.   
> Please, for the love of God, comment and tell me what you thought of this chapter :)

Jo and Dean sat in the car as he drew out the layout of the campus as best he could from memory. “This is the training building here, and the hangar is over here,” he said sketching out the rough shapes. “The dorms are here… and the rack is in a bunker right in the middle of the quad.” He said, finishing the sketch.  
“I’m sorry, what?” Jo said, trading shocked looks between Dean and the map.   
“Um…”   
“You’re telling me that not only do we need to infiltrate this prison, but we need to get to the very centre in the middle of an open space without being spotted, then break into a secret bunker, again without getting shot, and then break Cas out and get back into the forest all without getting killed?” Jo said, repeating herself to drive the point home.  
“That would be the general idea, yeah,” Dean said, nodding.  
“You’re a crazy son of a bitch, Dean Winchester,” Jo said, shaking her head I exasperation.   
“Yeah, and?”   
“I am going to regret this,” she said, head thumping against the headrest. “Let’s do this.” She got out of the car.   
“Jo,” Dean called after her, following her out of the car. He folded his arms on the roof. “You don’t have to do this.”   
“I know,” she said, giving him a small, terse smile. “But I’m going to anyways.”

 

Cas’ head drooped forward as he slipped into sleep. Just as his eyes closed several gunshots went off. His head snapped up.  
“Dean, please,” his broken voice rang through the chamber. “Dean, help me.”   
Hours later, a man entered, and Cas began screaming. Or at least tried to- he hadn’t had any water in what Cas figured had been days, and his voice was weak and feeble. He began to struggle against the chains as the man grabbed him by the chin and held his face still as he poured the water over it. He couldn’t breathe, but Cas swallowed as much as he could before it was ripped away. He gasped and sputtered as air slammed back into his lungs. The water dripped off his face over his beaten and bruised body.   
“Please,” Cas pleaded in a broken voice. “Please, let me out of here.” The man punched him in the stomach, then left. “Somebody, please help me! Dean!” He screamed as loud as he could, sobbing for his best friend. 

 

Dean and Jo crouched inside the treeline. Dean had shed the hoodie and shoved it in the duffel and put the more neutral yet bloody flannel back on, and they had stopped briefly at Jo’s so she could get changed as well. While they were there they grabbed food, water and bandages.   
“Okay, the quads empty,” Dean whispered. “I can see the hill that the bunker is under from here.”   
“Kay, you go first, I’ll cover you,” she whispered back.   
“Okay, let’s go.” Dean double checked, and went to surge out of the bushes.   
“Dean, wait,” Jo said, grabbing his arm.  
“What?” He snapped, eager to get to Cas. He was so close… but still so far.  
“Well, there are guards patrolling the yard, right?”   
“Yeah, that would be why we want to go now, you know, before they come back.”  
“Dean, we’d be more successful by just walking- from a distance we’d blend right in.”   
“And up close?” Jo gave him a bitch-face to rival Sam’s, and waved her gun beside her head. “Good point.”  
They stood up and crept out of the shadows of the forest. They walked quickly but slow enough that they wouldn’t draw anyone’s attention. They made it to the overhang above the door in record time, but they found the door locked. “Shit,” Dean muttered as he jiggled the handle. He pulled his gun out of his waist band and pressed it to the lock, praying that the hall on the other side would be empty.   
Jo stood behind him, scanning the yard for signs of anyone drawing near. The pale light of the moon gave her just enough light to see by, and she could see a group in the distance of about six or seven.   
“Better move Dean,” she said in a terse whisper. The shot went off, and Dean opened the door enough that he could just see inside to the empty hallway. Dean scanned the hall for cameras and shot two of them before stepping through the door. Jo followed swiftly and shut the door securely behind them.   
They moved swiftly through the underground fortress, shooting out all the cameras they saw. Without the cover of darkness, anyone who spotted them would know who he was, and would probably kill him on sight for escaping.   
Dean peeked around a corner and saw a large guard walking towards them. He pulled back and explained the situation to Jo.  
“Kill or maim?” She asked in a whisper.  
Dean sighed. “Kill. He’ll be trained to either keep fighting if he stays conscious, and if he loses consciousness he’ll just report to his higher ups that I'm-“  
Jo’s eyes widened and she raised her weapon, firing three shots. Dean spun and watched the guard he’d just seen hit the floor. There was a door, labeled STORAGE B across the hall from them, and he checked the lock. The door swung open easily, and he and Jo shoved the guard’s body inside.   
They made it to the entrance to the torture chamber without any more run in’s, but Dean knew there would be at least two guards on the other side. And then he noticed their next problem.   
“Jo,” he whispered, nudging her. “You need a key card to get in.”   
Her head snapped around. “Shit,” she whispered. “Well, we can go get that guards card…”  
“Too risky, we can’t go back. Plus, he probably doesn’t have one to get in. He was wearing plainclothes, the guards in the rack where a uniform.”   
“Okay, so what?”  
“Do you think we could shoot in and it would open?”  
“It’s worth a shot. Worse comes to worse someone answers and we shoot our way in.”  
“I like the way you think, Harvelle.”   
“Get to it,” She whispered, smacking his shoulder.   
“Okay, but we go in right away so we don’t lose the element of surprise.” He spun and shot the swipe lock. The little green light went off, and there was a loud click. He shoved the door open and scanned the space. As he had predicted, there were two guards. One had his weapon out, and Dean shot him as Jo ducked under Dean’s arms and shot the other.   
They quickly closed the door and Dean searched the guards for keys while Jo watched for visitors. When Dean had them, they proceeded silently and with caution.   
They heard the thump of boots coming towards them, and they ducked behind a stack of crates. Jo tested their sturdiness and scampered up. She pulled the shotgun off her back and loaded it quickly, and Dean set down their duffel. He pulled out extra ammo and waited while Jo set the gun on the top crate and peered over it, watching.   
As a group began rounding the corner, she waited until there were four guards and began shooting. Two more guards scampered back behind the corner as their friends threw up their arms to shield themselves.  
“Go!” she stage whispered. Dean rounded the crates and crept forward. He paused at the corner and listened. He could hear at least three people. With lithe grace, he leapt and summersaulted to the other side of the opening, and raised his gun. There were, as expected, three men, and Dean managed to shoot two before they noticed him. One was dead, but one was only dinged and drew out his weapon. Dean immediately realized the flaw in his plan- he had a great viewpoint, but so did they.   
In a moment of sheer stupidity, he stood up and charged. He heard Jo shout at him, but he didn’t stop. He grabbed the wrist of the injured guard and swung behind him, using his as a shield. Dean shot the other guard from over the first guys shoulder, and twisted the man’s arm, utilizing the bullet wound, trying to get him to drop the weapon. It worked, but the man reached up with his free hand and grabbed the back of Dean’s shirt and hauled him over his head. Dean smashed to the ground, landing on his back, his shoulder on fire, and rolled as the man tried to stomp on his face. Dean was glad his shot gun was in the duffel.  
He stood and was about to start swinging when he realized he recognized the guard.  
“Benny?” He said, freezing and staring.  
The man stopped too. “Dean? I thought you-“  
“Jo wait!” Dean said throwing his hand out as Jo rounded the corner, the duffel slung over her shoulder, shotgun pointed out. Benny dropped to the ground and rolled, turning to face Jo with his hands up.   
“Don’t shoot, there sister,” he said in his familiar drawl.   
“Who are you?” she said, eyes flicking to Dean. “Are you Cas?”  
“No, Jo, this is my old partner Benny.” He rubbed at his shoulder.   
“Cas? You mean Castiel, your partner?” Benny asked. Dean nodded. “You got out and you came back for him?” Another nod.  
“You can come too, Ben,” Dean whispered urgently. “My next stop was Purgatory to get you out.”  
Benny smiled at him, but suddenly his face went stricken. “We better move, Dean.”  
“Why?”  
“Boss-man’s in there with angel-boy.”  
They all rushed forward, and Dean asked, “Why did you call him that?”  
“Part of their torture methods was to show me how successful you were without me, and they showed me your performance tapes. The Angel and the Hunter- clever.”  
Dean nodded, and charged around a corner. He was so worried about Cas that he’d forgotten caution was a thing that existed, and collided with a guard. He wrapped his hands around the back of the guard’s neck, and smashed their face into his knee. As they stumbled back, stunned, he shot the guy in the chest.   
“Hey, Dean,” Jo said, “You maybe wanna watch where you’re going?”  
“Yeah,” Dean said as his heart pounded. He hadn’t felt this kind of high since he’d been on the silks, but it wasn’t the same. Cas wasn’t here.  
“Benny, you lead,” Dean said, waving him forward. Benny moved forward with a confidence Dean had never seen in his friend. Turns out Benny wasn’t born to be a performer- he was born to be a soldier.   
They got to the cell section, and immediately heard the screams. Shrieks of pain filled the hallway, and between it Dean could hear someone begging. He ran down the hallway and killed two more guards. Benny inclined his head towards the third door on the left. Dean nodded and tried the handle- it was locked. He pulled out the keys, and unlocked it. He kicked it open and raised his gun.  
Cas was shackled to the wall, shirt hanging off him, soaked in blood and screaming as Alistair drew a blade across his sweaty skin. Alistair’s head snapped around at the sound of the door opening and he did a double take.  
“You stupid son of a bitch,” he said. “You were out, and you came back?”  
“Let him go,” Dean said in a low, deadly tone, weapon trained on his former boss. Cas looked up at him with bleary eyes, and squinted.  
“Dean?” Cas’ raspy whisper came.  
“Yeah, buddy, I’m here,” Dean said, voice softening as he gave his friend a fond look.   
“Looks like you’re going to have a new roomie, Castiel.” Alistair said, flicking his knife. Cas screamed as a new gouge opened along his pec.   
“Stop!” Dean bellowed. He heard several shots go off outside the cell door, where Jo and Benny were standing guard.   
“Let, him go, Alistair,” Dean said, voice hard again. “Benny too.”  
“Not happening, Dean-o. You’re not walking out of here, neither is angel-boy here, or Benny, not even that pretty blonde.” He said, peering around Dean to where Jo was just visible on the far side of the threshold, and waved his blade around, dangerously close to Cas’ face.   
“Dean, just go,” Cas moaned, head lolling to the side. “Get out of here.” His eyes drooped closed even as he fought to stay conscious.  
“I’m not leaving here without you, Cas.”  
“Dean, we gotta go!” Jo shouted, firing several more shots.   
“Last chance, Alistair. Let him go, and you get to walk out of here.”  
“Let me think about that… No,” Alistair’s knife flashed, aimed for Castiel’s throat. Dean fired several shots through Alistair’s chest. He crumbled to the ground, and Dean rushed towards Cas.   
“Cas, hey, buddy, look at me,” he said, frantic, grabbing Cas chin and shaking his head slightly. His head was limp, but he moaned.  
“You came back for me?” He whispered, looking up.   
“Yeah, buddy, I came back.’  
“You shouldn’t have done that, Dean,” he lamented. Cas trained bleary eyes on Dean.   
“I wasn’t gonna leave you here, Cas. I could never do that to you,” Dean whispered, eyes scanning Cas’ face. “I could never hurt you like that.”  
“Dean, brother, we gotta motor, they’re sending in the cavalry,” Benny said, ducking through the door.   
“Help me get him down,” Dean said, reaching for the shackles. Cas made pained noises as he was let down, arms aching after having them held above his head for so long. Dean looped one of Cas’ arms over his neck, and his own arm around his partner’s waist, then gestured for Benny to lead with a nod of his head.   
Cas was so lightheaded from starvation, dehydration and blood loss that he could barely walk, and Dean had to drag him along. Jo took the lead, and Benny the rear, each armed with a shotgun. Dean’s own gun was grasped in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Cas, and was watching for additional signs of trouble.   
They made it to the door of the bunker with only one encounter with a group of four guards, but by then Cas was soaked in blood and could barely stand. They paused for a moment to reload their weapons, and Cas collapsed.  
“Jo, did you toss the power bars in the duffel?” Dean asked, crouching in front of Cas and trying to get him to regain consciousness.   
“Yep,” Jo said, swinging the bag off her shoulder and rooting for the box of granola bars. She handed one to Dean, and he tore the wrapper off and prodded Cas.  
“Come on, man, eat this quick,” Dean said, pressing the food to Cas’ lip. One of Cas’ hands came up, hungrily accepting the offered food. “Hey, listen to me,” Dean said, stabilizing Cas’ jaw and forcing him to meet Dean’s eyes. “We just got to make it to the forest and you can rest, okay? It’s only a couple hundred feet. You got this?” Cas nodded. “Good,” Dean said, hauling Cas to his feet. The effect of the power bar was miraculous- Cas was standing on his own, and Dean was able to focus on shooting incoming guards as they moved across the yard.   
There were men coming in from all sides, about fifteen of them, and the trio sent off shot after shot as Cas focused on running, stumbling several times. Each time, Dean’s hand shot out to stabilize him, and Cas gave him a pained yet grateful look.   
They were about ten feet from the treeline when Dean was shot. It hit his leg, and he shouted in pain as it gave out and he tumbled across the ground. Cas stopped and was about to turn when Dean screamed for him to keep going.  
“Dean-“  
“Dammit Cas, move,” Dean shouted, pushing to his feet. Jo and Benny stopped at the treeline and turned to ward off the oncoming shooters, ho dropped one by one. Dean ran with a limp, but grabbed Cas’ wrist and dragged him into the treeline.   
Jo and Benny followed, and they moved as quickly and quietly as they could until they were deep into the woods and found a stone outcropping to hunker down behind.   
“Jo, you got your phone?” Dean asked in a strained voice as he sat down on a rock.   
“Yeah, why?”  
“Does it have a flashlight?” She nodded. “Good- we gotta dig the bullet out of my leg. Cas, get some food and water into you. Benny, patch Cas and yourself up, please. We leave as soon as the bullet is out of my leg.”  
Jo, although she looked like she was about to throw up all over him, shoved her fingers the bullet would that was about mid-thigh. Dean found it amazing that, not only had he been shot twice in one day, but the bullet had somehow managed to not hit the femoral artery.   
Jo bandaged him up, and in the meantime he ate two power bars to get some of his strength back. Cas ate about six, and chugged two bottles of water, then used part of a third to wipe the blood off his chest with the tattered remains of his shirt. Benny wrapped the bandages around his torso, then taped gauze pads to the injuries on his shoulders and neck before Cas pulled Jo’s Police Foundation’s sweater on. Jo checked Dean’s shoulder wound quickly, and, having decided it was fine, they began the hike to the car.  
It took about two hours to reach the spot where they’d hidden it, and while Jo and Benny surveyed the area for any of Alistair’s men, Dean and an exhausted Cas loaded the car and got in the back seat.   
“I am so sorry, Cas,” Dean said, looking at his friend with a broken expression.   
“Dean, what are you talking about?” Cas asked, confused.  
“This never would have happened to you if I hadn’t pushed that drop on you. And the morning of the fall… if I’d just-“  
The front doors opened as Jo and Benny got in, and Jo started the car. She’d surrendered her hand gun to Benny, and Dean’s was resting in his lap as they backed onto the road. Jo slammed the car into drive and whooped as she tore down the highway at breakneck speed.  
Cas stared at Dean, trying to figure out what he was going to say before Jo and Benny got in the car, and Dean pretended not to notice as he scanned the area for Alistair’s men. After a few moments, Cas couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, and he fell asleep for the first time in days.


	8. Chapter 8

Cas woke to his shoulder being shook, and he jumped high enough that his head hit the roof of the car. His heart pounded in his chest as his frantic eyes scanned the space around him.   
“Hey, Cas, it’s okay,” Dean soothed, placing a gentle hand on Cas’ shoulder.  
“Where are we?” Cas asked, squinting out at the sunny parking lot.  
“Topeka,” Dean said, tugging lightly on Cas’ arm. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”  
Cas squinted at the onslaught of sunlight and allowed himself to be led by Dean into a small motel room. Dean guided him to the closest bed, and Cas collapsed onto it, asleep again almost instantly.   
Jo knocked lightly on the door. “Hey, Jo,” Dean said, giving her a warm smile.   
“How is he?” She asked, nodding to Cas. There were bags under her eyes, and her eyelids drooped, but she was otherwise fine, something Dean was eternally grateful for.   
“He’ll be okay,” Dean said. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “How are you doing?”  
“I’m okay. Exhausted, but okay. Listen, you should stay with Cas- I’m good sharing a room with Benny.”  
“You sure?”   
“Yeah, he’ll need you when he wakes up.”  
“Thanks, Jo,” Dean said. She gave him a nod and sauntered out of the room, closing the door behind her.  
Dean sat down on the unoccupied bed and buried his eyes in the heels of his hands. He couldn’t believe that they’d actually managed to pull the rescue off… but now he didn’t know what they’d do now. He lay back in the bed and closed his eyes. 

 

“Castiel, please,” DreamDean whispered, looking up at his friend. “Don’t do this.” DreamCas stared down at Dean, a dangerously sharp blade aimed at Dean’s face. “We’re family. I need you.”   
DreamCas’ expression didn’t change as he brought his fist down over and over again against DreamDean’s face. DreamDean cried out in pain. DreamCas flipped the knife around in his hand and pointed it at DreamDean.  
“Cas, no, please,” DreamDean begged.   
The blade sliced down through the air and gouged into Dean’s throat.

 

Dean jerked up in bed, covered in sweat and gasping for air. “Dean?” Cas called softly from the small table.  
Dean tried to hide his flinch, and looked over to where Cas was seated at the table, a box of pizza open in front of him. Dean could immediately tell Cas had noticed him recoil, and tried to cover the fumble.   
“Hey, buddy, how are you feeling?” Dean asked, trying to shake of the dream. It’s not like that was his Cas-‘um, the real Cas,’ he corrected himself.  
“Fine, Dean,” Cas said, a hurt and angry look on his face.   
“Cas-“ Dean said, feeling immediately guilty for causing that look and wanting to remove it.  
“What’s going on, Dean?” Cas snapped, standing and storming forward. Dean stood to meet him. “The day I fell, you suddenly pulled away from me. Today you flinch at my voice. What have I done to warrant this? What did I do to you?”   
“Nothing, Cas, I-“  
“Then what, Dean?” Cas shouted. “Why are you so afraid of me?”  
“I’m not! Please, just let me explain.” Cas stared at him with hard eyes and eventually gave a small nod. “Ever since I signed my Deal, I’ve been having nightmares,” Dean said in a frustrated voice, desperate to smooth things over with Cas. “Usually about saving Sam, but out of nowhere they- they were about you. Losing you, Cas. You being in this place where I couldn’t help you, and you were twisted into something you’re not. The morning of the fall… I’d had a nightmare. And we were talking and all of a sudden all I could see was that nightmare version of you-“  
“Hey, Dean, relax,” Cas said, placing a hand gently on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m still me. I’ll always be me. I’m not going anywhere.” Dean met Cas’ eyes, shocked that Cas had forgiven him so easily, and Cas smiled at him.  
Dean gave a small smile back, and whispered, “Thanks, Cas.”  
“Dean…” Cas let his hand fall off Dean’s shoulder. “The morning I fell… what happened between us?”  
Dean felt his stomach lurch with nerves, and he moved away from Cas, walking to and sitting down on his bed. “I haven’t got a goddamn clue, man.”   
Cas walked over and sat beside him. “Dean… tell me the truth.”  
Dean looked at his friend, sighed, and whispered, “I was going- I was thinking about kissing you.”  
Cas blinked at him, shocked. At the time he’d figured that was where the encounter was leading… but he couldn’t believe it.   
“Is that- is that something you’d want?” Dean asked, sheepish eyes flicking over Cas’ face, from his eyes, to his mouth, and then he’d look away entirely. Cas nodded tentatively, and they each gave the other a small smile before Dean leaned over, brought his hand across his body to cradle Cas’ chin, and brushed their lips together.  
Cas gasped slightly when their lips met, and Dean smiled before slotting them together more fully. Their lips slid smoothly against each other despite Cas’ being chapped, and the skin of Dean’s stomach jumped when he felt the gently brush of Cas’ fingertips on his abdomen.   
After a moment Cas pulled back, needing to catch his breath, and Dean combed a stray strand of hair off his partners forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay, Cas.”  
“I’m glad you’re okay, too, Dean,” Cas whispered, and pressed their foreheads together. After a moment, he pulled back and walked across the room to the kitchenette to get a bottle of water- he was still dehydrated from the rack. “The whole time I was in there,” Cas said, twisting the bottle cap in his fingers and watching them intently, “all I wanted was for you to be safe. I was terrified that Alistair would punish you for my mistake. And then when I started hallucinating, I just screamed for you. “  
“Alistair was definitely angry. You fell Monday afternoon, and I was locked in my room all day Tuesday, and then Alistair met with me Wednesday morning,” Dean squinted, trying to remember the when everything happened. “Told me he was sending me to Purgatory- which, according to him is worse than the rack, so that was something fun to look forward to- by the evening. They were putting me on a plane around- I don’t know, four maybe. No, three.”  
Cas blanched at the thought of Dean going through something so painful. “What happened? How are we even out?”  
Dean explained the events of his escape, finding Jo, and coming back in the middle of the night for Cas. “Since then we’ve been asleep.”  
Cas walked over and sat down beside Dean again. “Don’t get me wrong, Dean, I’m glad you came back for me… but you should have gotten the hell out of dodge. I hate that you put yourself in danger like that-“  
Dean leaned over and silenced Cas with a chaste kiss. Butterflies filled his stomach at the action. “It was my fault you fell. I wasn’t going to leave you- hell, I wouldn’t have left you even if it wasn’t my fault.”  
Cas gave him a warm look and flopped back on the bed. Then promptly shot up again. “Oh my God,” his eyes were blown wide with worry.  
“What?” Dean asked, alarmed.   
“Claire,” Cas said, turning his terrified look on Dean.  
“Claire-? Fuck,” Dean said, suddenly understanding. He shot to his feet and started for the door.  
“We have to get to Chicago,” Cas said, standing.  
“I’m getting the keys from Jo- pack us each a go bag.” Dean ducked out of the door and travelled the few steps to Jo and Benny’s room. He knocked heavily on the door, and a few moments later a frazzled looking Jo opened the door.   
“Dean?” She asked. Dean could hear Benny snoring. “Do you know what time it is?”  
“I need the keys-“  
“What? Why, what’s going on?”  
“Castiel left a foster daughter in Chicago- we need to get to her before Alistair’s men do.”  
“Oh my God,” Jo’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “Yeah, of course, let me get the keys and I’ll get Benny up.”   
“Wait Jo,” Dean said. She looked up from where she was digging through her coat. “Cas and I are going alone. You guys lay low, stay safe. We’re taking a big risk- you and Benny don’t need to go down with us.”  
Jo looked like she wanted to argue, but eventually she nodded. “Be safe,” she said, pressing the keys into Dean’s palm.   
“Thank you, Jo,” Dean gave her a hug and then heard Cas leave their room. He followed him down to the car, where Cas tossed the bags in the trunk of Jo’s car. Dean hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine as Cas threw himself into the passenger seat. “Go,” Cas said, a frantic look in his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is reunited with Claire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little fluffy, a bit angsty, but overall is just moving the sorry forward.

Cas tried to stay awake, but he was still so exhausted from being on the rack that he fell asleep barely an hour into the drive.   
Four hours later, the sun was peeking over the horizon, painting the sky lavender and rose. Mist hung thick in the air, taking on the pastel hues of the sky. Dean’s eyes were heavy, and the car was starting to drift. He reached over and smacked Cas’ arm to wake him.   
Cas made a garbled sound and jolted awake. “Cas, buddy, you need to drive.”  
“Mnyeah, kay,” Cas muttered, rubbing his eyes. Dean pulled the car over, and they climbed out. Dean’s feet dragged as he crossed around the car, and Cas stopped him to press a gentle kiss to his throat. “Thank you, Dean,” he whispered against the warm, soft flesh.  
“Thank me when we get Claire out safely,” Dean allowed them a moment to lean against each other before he stepped around Cas and ducked into the passenger seat. He reclined as far as he could, and fell into a light sleep.  
Cas contemplated how he would get Claire out. He looked like he’d gone six rounds with a lawnmower, and was caked in blood. His jeans were torn and dirty, and beneath Jo’s hoodie he was still wearing the bloody shirt. He wouldn’t succeed by just walking up to the counter and asking for custody, and he knew explaining the situation would do little for his cause.   
About an hour out of Chicago he had an idea that might just work, but probably wouldn’t. He tapped Dean’s arm, and Dean woke with bleary eyes. “Yeah?” He groaned.  
“There’s a gas station ahead. We need to stop there and try calling Claire- the only way we’ll get her is if she runs away and we pick her up.” Dean nodded. “You should grab us some food- I know you must be hungry.”  
Dean was about to protest that they didn’t have any money when he remembered the wad of cash Jo had stuffed in the glove compartment. He opened in, and as he pulled out a couple twenties, and asked, “Are you sure that’ll work?”   
“Not exactly, but it’s the only thing I can see having the potential to work.” Cas’ hands dug into the steering wheel with worry- there were any number of ways Alistair’s men could get to Claire before he did. He’d never told anyone about her except for Dean, so they couldn’t have gone after her immediately, but they wouldn’t waste time looking into everyone’s past to find people they could use to lure them out.   
Cas parked the car and climbed out. He watched Dean limp towards the door. Dean’s shoulder ached all the way down his arm, and his leg was on fire. He was glad he’d thought to get changed last night before falling asleep- Cas may have been in rough shape, but Dean’s clothes were completely ruined.   
They entered the small convenience store together, and Dean immediately began collecting food and drinks. Cas approached the cashier at the counter- a pimple-faced boy of maybe fifteen- and said, “Excuse me, but if it’s of no inconvenience, would I be able to borrow a phone?”   
“Yeah, I guess,” the boy said in a bored tone. “Number?” He asked as he handed Cas the receiver. Cas rhymed off the number for Claire’s cell and pressed the phone to his ear. The phone rang several times with no answer. “You okay buddy?” The cashier asked, taking in Cas’ bloody clothes. Dean walked up to the counter and the kid began scanning items.   
“Fine- Claire?” Cas asked in an urgent tone as a greeting echoed across the line.   
“Yes, who is this?” Claire’s voice was apprehensive, but she sounded otherwise fine to Cas. Dean handed over one of the twenties to pay for their meager breakfast.   
“It’s Castiel- please don’t hang up!” Cas said when he heard Claire’s angry intake of breath.  
“What the hell, Cas?” She snarled into the phone.  
“Listen, buddy, it’s totally uncool to harass your ex-“ The kid said, reaching for the base to disconnect the call.  
“No, no, no, wait,” Dean said, blocking the kid’s hand. “She’s his step daughter- she ran away.” Dean said, spinning a lie as close to the truth as he possibly could. The kid scowled, and Dean held up the other twenty, which the kid snatched and walked away from the pair.   
“I know, Claire, I know, just listen, please. I was trying to come home, I was, I swear, but some bad stuff happened, and I’ll explain everything, but I think you could be in danger. Where are you?”  
“My apartment,” she said, voice still angry but immediately trusting the man she considered her father.   
“Shouldn’t you be at Sunnybrook?” Cas said, concerned.  
“I turned eighteen, like, a week ago. Not in the system anymore.” He could hear her irritation.  
“Wait, what’s the date?”   
“September sixteenth,” she said, voice becoming concerned. Cas cursed himself for forgetting Claire’s birthday, despite the fact that he’d been dealing with bigger fish in the last few days.   
“Shit, I’m sorry Claire,” Cas said.  
“Step it up, Cas, get to the point,” Dean urged, collecting the bag of food.  
“Okay, I need you to pack a bag- pack light. I know you probably don’t want to see me, but I don’t know how else to protect you.”  
“Okay, what else do I need to do?”   
Cas was somewhat shocked by how agreeable Claire was being, and said, “Start by locking your door- don’t open it for anyone. Get all your identification, you’ll need it eventually. Again, only pack a few outfits. Bring anything that you think you’ll want – pictures, mementos, that sort of thing. Any cash you have, grab it. Prepare for life on the road.”  
He could here Claire bustling around her apartment and the click of a lock. “When will you be here?”  
“An hour, give or take.”  
“Shit, Cas, I need time! I have to take care of me rent- my roommate will have to find a way to pay for the place on her own-“  
“I know, Claire, but there are a bunch of killers after me, and their probably coming for you,” Cas said, cringing at how blunt he was being. He didn’t want to scare Claire, but he needed to get the point across.   
“Okay, okay, okay,” Claire said, slightly short of breath. “I’ll be ready.”  
“Okay, where’s your apartment?” Cas asked. Claire rhymed of directions and asked Cas if he knew where it was.  
“Yeah- it’s only a couple blocks from our old place, right?”  
“Yep,” Claire said, quickly giving directions. “See you in an hour,” she said, and hung up after a command from Cas to watch for them, along with a description of their car.   
Cas thanked the boy, who grunted what Cas thought was meant to be a ‘you’re welcome’ but was better sure was just a noise, and the pair rushed out to the car. Dean climbed into the driver’s seat again, and Cas accepted the grocery bag and placed it at his feet. As Dean flew back onto the highway, Cas adjusted his seat.   
“Will you make me a sandwich, babe?” Dean asked as he manipulated his way into the fast lane. “There’s peanut butter and bread in the bag.”  
Cas automatically moved to do as Dean asked before freezing. “What did you just call me?” He asked with butterflies in his stomach.  
Dean was sitting in the driver’s seat, dumbfounded, as though only just realizing his use of the pet name. “I, uh- I don’t know- I think, uh- babe?” He stuttered out.   
Cas grinned at him, and said, “I like it.” He reached into the bag to get out the supplies he needed to make Dean’s breakfast. Dean blushed furiously and gratefully accepted the excuse to avoid conversation until the awkwardness had passed.   
“So,” Cas said, sensing Dean’s discomfort, “I told Claire to watch for us, so I figure our best bet is to pull up out front and wait for her. That way there if Alistair’s men happen to be lurking, they hopefully won’t be able to tell it’s us.”  
“Good idea,” Dean said around a mouthful of peanut butter. He swallowed the sticky substance and gestured for a drink. Cas opened a carton of milk and handed it to Dean, who took several swallows before making a contented sigh. He made an aggressive sound as another car cut him off and proceeded to slow down.  
“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, moving around the guy. As they passed him, Dean looked over and saw a man looking down at a cell phone. “Oh, of course you’re on a cell phone,” Dean snapped before pulling ahead.   
They boys drove in companionable silence, happy to be back in each other’s presence after being separated, until the outskirts of Chicago, when Cas started giving directions.   
“How’s your leg?” Cas asked as they maneuvered through the bustling heart of the city. Luckily, traffic kept moving.   
“Hurts like a bitch. If I’d been thinking, I would have had Jo change the dressing before we headed out.”  
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Cas muttered. Dean grunted for him not to worry. “And did I see her check your shoulder the other night?”  
“Yeah, during my initial breakout I was shot in the shoulder.”  
“You need to be more careful, Dean,” Cas growled. “Turn left here.”  
“It’s not like I was trying to get shot,” Dean muttered, making the turn, shocked by Cas’ sudden change in mood.  
“That doesn’t mean you don’t need to be careful- I mean- right turn here- you were shot twice in one day.”  
“I didn’t have much of a choice, we had to get out.” Dean said with growing irritation. “What’s this all about?”  
Cas sighed, deflating. “It’s just- the idea of you hurting because of me-or hurt at all- it scares me. And I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you-“  
“Hey,” Dean said gently, reaching over and squeezing Cas’ thigh. “I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere.”  
Cas grabbed Dean’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “When this is over, we should get a coffee,” Cas said, accidently voicing aloud what was meant to be a private though.  
Dean chuckled at Cas’ abruptness as Cas blushed furiously. “Are you asking me on a date?”  
“If you want to call it that- aw shit, turn right-“ Dean braked hard and made the turn, nearly hitting another car in the process. “Sorry.”  
“If we survive this car ride,” Dean said with a cheeky grin.   
Cas snorted, glad his vocalization of his inner monologue hadn’t made Dean uncomfortable, and said, “You’re the one behind the wheel.”  
“Yes but you’re co-pilot and navigator, and it’s your job to-“  
“Turn left.”  
“Keep us from dying,” Dean gritted out in a laugh as he careened around another corner.   
Cas laughed jubilantly. “Yeah, well, Claire’s building is up on the right, so we should be done with the crazy driving.”  
Dean pulled the car into an empty space and killed the engine. Cas had been able to relax as they bantered playfully, but now that he was sedentary again, butterflies flitted around his abdomen- and not in the good way. Numbness spread through his back and into his knees, making him glad he was sitting.   
Luckily, only a few moments passed before a teenage girl with a wild mane of blonde hair stepped through the door of the low brick building with a knapsack over her shoulder. She walked swiftly towards the car, and Cas stood up to greet her.  
Despite her anger, Claire raced forward and threw herself into her surrogate father’s arms. “I’ve missed you so much,” Cas whispered into her hair, and kissed the top of her head.   
“I’ve missed you too, Cas,” she whispered, allowing herself another moment of peace in the security of her caretakers embrace before climbing into the back of the car. She was shocked by the presence of the driver, a man she didn’t recognize, and her features hardened.  
Dean twisted around to face the newest member of their company. “Hi, my name is Dean. I’m a… colleague of Cas’.”  
Claire didn’t miss the hesitation when Dean identified himself, but Castiel obviously trusted him, and for now, that was good enough for her.   
“Claire,” she said, reaching between the two front seats to shake Dean’s hand. Dean smiled at her and noted her firm grip- this was not a girl to be trifled with.   
Cas got himself resituated in the front seat as Dean swung the car around and headed back the way they came. “Would you like something to eat or drink, Claire?” Cas asked, twisting to face the teenager. “We have a long drive back to Topeka.”  
“Topeka?” Claire squealed, incredulous. “Wait, whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s hold up for fifteen seconds and talk about what’s going on. You can explain over breakfast.”  
Fifteen minutes later they were in a near-empty diner. They ordered breakfast, and when the waitress was gone, Claire leaned over and in a terse whisper, said, “Cas, what in the hell is going on?”   
Cas felt a flurry of emotions well up in him- fear, regret, and shame being the top contenders- as he launched into the tale. He paused when the waitress delivered their food, and continued talking when she’d gone again.   
Dean tried to comfort Cas with gentle touched when he sensed his companion needed it. He didn’t even consciously realize what he was doing- a pat on the arm here, a squeeze of the hand there, even occasionally reaching over and massaging the tense space between Cas’ shoulder blades- but Claire noticed. She filed the actions away for later scrutiny.   
As Cas told his story, Dean considered the development in their relationship. He wasn’t sure where they stood- what were they? They were more than friends, but they weren’t really a couple. Dean figured that until one of them made it official they’d just be a “thing.”  
Dean tuned into Cas’ tale again as Cas began launching into the final leg. His voice became choked up when he reached the fall and what followed.   
“The thing you need to understand, Claire,” Dean said, placing a soothing hand on Cas’ thigh. Cas gave him a grateful look as he was given silent permission to stop. “Is that Alistair didn’t run a circus, he ran a mob. Which means he wasn’t above torture,” he said, trying to break the truth to the teen as gently as possible. “Cas and I have both been on the rack-“  
“The what?” Claire said. Her throat ached with unshed tears. In the months since she’d been abandoned, Claire had imagined scenario after scenario, supplying reasons for Cas’ departure. In some he was a sadistic son of a bitch who didn’t care what happened to her. In others, something had happened that explained his absence. But nothing, not one of her musings, stacked up to this.   
“It’s, uh,” Dean paused, gauging Claire’s emotional state.  
“Dean?” She said in a small voice, not taking her eyes off Cas.  
Dean sighed. “It’s Alistair’s torture dungeon.”  
Claire let out a single broken sob and dropped her face into her hands. Her shoulders shook for only a moment before she looked up and reached for Cas’ hand, grasping it firmly in both of hers.  
“I am so, so sorry, Cas,” she hiccupped out. “If I’d known-“  
“Claire, it’s okay,” Cas said, offering his daughter a small smile. He reached out and wiped the tears off her cheeks. Tears streaked his own face as well, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Anyways,” Cas continued, having regained his composure. Claire sat back in her seat, wiping the remaining liquid from her cheeks as Cas said, “after the fall, Alistair put me on the rack. Frankly, it was a miracle I even survived that drop- I think the audience broke my fall,” Cas said, trying to lighten the mood. “Alistair was pissed with me for falling in the first place, and when we stated the act, Dean was told he was responsible for its success.”  
Dean decided he should take over, seeing as he actually lived this part of the story. “Al was gearing up to ship me to Miami, where he runs a boot-slash-torture camp. I managed to escape. Went to a gas station to warn my brother to drop everything and run and ran into a friend of the family’s. We went back for Cas, and managed to rescue my old partner too.”  
Cas gave Claire a moment to process the information, then said, in a more serious tone, “We think there’s a chance Alistair’s men could be coming after you, to try and lure us out. Claire, you won’t be safe here if you’re alone. Please, I’m begging you, come with us- let me protect you.”  
Claire tented her fingers and pressed the two index against her forehead, and her thumbs against her chin. She was a rational, intelligent woman- she knew it was a toss up between leaving her life or losing it. Really, it was a no-brainer; she just needed a moment to consider the ramifications of walking out of her life.  
Finally, she looked up. “So, Topeka, huh?”


End file.
